Valar Morgoofus
by KippEvenS
Summary: A Game of Thrones/Disney crossover An alternative look at one man's fate, through the eyes of some peculiar characters. Spoiler alert for anyone who hasn't seen the end of Season 5/start of Season 6 GoT!


Winter was coming.

A shrill and bitter wind rang with force across the north of Westeros. It was a never ending cruelty that claimed any who remained within its rage for too long; but there were some who had grown used to its torment, who grew and strived in endless wait of the darkest night.

In the shadow of a great mountain - no, perhaps that wasn't quite right - the illusion of a mountain cleared through the torrent of snow and gale and stood gloriously as one of the tallest and longest walls in all of Westeros; made entirely of ice, and all along the top man-made barracks of wood and steel maintained some integrity, keeping the inhabitants within safe from the sometimes inevitable risk of falling off.

The only path, if not one of few, through the gargantuan barricade resided as one long, grounded corridor in the middle of the wall itself - this, in turn, was guarded within the confines of Castle Black, an extension of the garrison, where men of the Night's Watch - thieves, outcasts and the like - gathered to train and prepare for the long Winter expected.

Men hurried to and fro within the enclosed space; some, who were preparing to take over for covering on the high wall, waited by another man-made construct - an impressive elevation system, building itself into the wall with a wooden box-space to transport men up the wall and back down.

Watching men exchange their duties was a short, chubby male - his skin dark, ears short and cheeks surprisingly peachy; the steward, in his thick clothes and long coat, seemed to suffer from the cold more than most as his arms wrapped around himself. He watched as the other men passed each other by, getting ready to stand guard - to keep watch throughout a darkness that seemed to last for days - and wondered guiltily when he might ever stand a chance to face it himself.

"You seem troubled, P.J. Tarly."

With a sudden jolt, P.J. quickly turned to face the voice behind him - he saw, and he settled as best he could throughout the constant shiver.

There before him stood two men, though the steward recognised the voice as soon as he had a face to put it to; the tall, lanky male, garmented in the same clothing as the young man before him, showed concern through his lowered-brow look of permanent angst. This, gracing the steward's presence, was the most recent Lord Commander of the Night's Watch - Jon Snoof. His casted gaze met P.J.'s own through a mess of black, wet and curly hair.

"I-It's just," The younger man responded courteously. "I'm n-not yet used to the cold." He chuckled lightly, never breaking his gaze as he watched the Commander walk past him, watching the open box-lift propel men up the wall-face.

"You'll get used to it, P.J. - you have to." Jon turned to face his unlikely friend. "We've all sacrificed our lives to begin again, as members of the Night's Watch. We're here because we're expected to protect those more vulnerable from what lies beyond the wall."

The taller male, unknowingly, lowered his head as he spoke the last of his words - his mind looked back upon his adoptive family of House Stark; of his uncle

Horace, who was last known to venture beyond the wall but who never came back - and of Ygritte, a beautiful wildling who once captured the stern man's heart, right before ripping it out of him as she collapsed before him from an arrow directly embedded into her chest. He sighed aloud. "I only wanted to be a ranger."

The portly young man moved close to him, resting a gloved hand to Jon's shoulder - he struggled with words for a few moments, before smiling helplessly. "I always wanted to be a wizard."

"Nothing fun about wizards, I reckon," The third male moved behind the Commander, again facing the structure - his eyes were narrowed, gazing out across a long orange beak, short wispy white hair blowing aimlessly in what breeze could make purchase through the castle walls. "Not that they exist."

"You sound envious, Donald."

It was meant as a playful throwaway, but Eddison Donald's glare met P.J.'s comment and forced it back down his throat - the only comfort found was Jon's laughter, slow to start but building in heartiness as it broke the silence between the remaining two, who soon laughed with him. The three stood and watched the lift make its final pace up the ramparts, before stopping with a slow, creaky thud at the top.

Heavy footprints laid a trail from the spot where the three once stood, all separating in opposing directions; Jon Snoof proceeded along a long narrow pathway that ran around the inside wall, soon reaching a set of stairs that led towards the quarters. As he reached the last step, a dark figure stepped out from the shadows and blocked his path. Taken by surprise, Jon felt his hand immediately move to the hilt of his family sword - it relaxed as the dim moonlight soon revealed the taller, portlier man before him. "Commander."

Alliser Pete greeted Snoof with a restrained, grimacing smile, his hands rested to his hips as his arms held open his long fur coat, his fat cheeks rolling down a little on his face as he gave the Commander an odd grin. "Alliser." Jon replied, steadying his nerve. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"I just have a little something to discuss with you." Alliser brushed his thumb under his nose, turning away in the continuing direction as he carried on. "But not here - it's a rather...personal matter."

The angsty man listened and considered his thoughts, before nodding. Both men followed the path steadily beneath the quarters, approaching a corner as the wider male beckoned Jon onward. Jon continued and followed the trail around - foolishly - to come face to face with a wooden sign propped carefully above an empty water barrel. Upon it was a message, written in blood.

'TRAITOR'

His eyes raised wide, and with the soft crunching of snow surrounding him Jon quickly turned around. Alliser was met with several comrades, shaded by a shroud of darkness as they stood away from the nearby torchlight. Jon looked around him, squinting his eyes in thought, before-

"Oh, I get it! You wanted to discuss something as a committee, didn't you?"

Alliser laughed heartily, and it rang out with an underlay of evil as he moved in close. "You know nothing, Jon Snoof." From beneath his coat, an arm outstretched and a dagger quickly embedded itself deep inside Jon's gut.

"YAAAAAAAAHOOHOOHOOWEEEEERGGHH!" Jon cried out in guttural pain, staring in shock at the traitor before him - but as the betrayer removed his blade, the rest of the world came for blood.

The second figure stepped forward; as the light caught him, Snoof saw his old comrade Mickey jump out. "O-ho!"

"A-hyuk-!" The sudden yelp was met with a strike, and metal penetrated another section of his gut. As the wound formed around the blade, Jon could hear the faint noise of vicious barking - he looked through the gap of two dark figures, and beyond laid a cage, being heavily pawed at from the inside by his orange dire wolf Pluto. Pluto yelped and barked in empathetic agony, sensing its master's suffering, unable to break free of the prison the betrayer had set for it.

Mickey stepped back, and a third man approached; Eddison Donald buried his dagger deep inside his 'friend', and as Snoof looked up in despair, Donald spoke. "That's for being a clever-dick!" He stepped away, a bloodied dagger in hand.

Leslie Nielsen stepped forward, and another dagger penetrated the weakened Commander. "I just wanna tell you both, good luck - we're all counting on you." With a swift withdrawal, he moved back.

Snoof watched the next man approach, and groaned in pain as the men chanted out- "John Cena!" The bulkiest of all of them, Cena grabbed Snoof's head with both hands and brought it down to meet his knee - in the daze and collapse of blood, another hiccup-sound of pain escaped his mouth as Cena's dagger duly followed and subsided.

Jon Snoof fell to his knees, coughing up a copious amount of blood as fresh liquid replaced that which dried upon his lower lip. The final figure approached him slowly; the youngest of the group, practically a boy.

"M-Maxim..?" Snoof stared up at the young steward - he had tears in his eyes, his hair softly ruffled and ragged from the weather as he stared back to his Commander. Snoof extended a hand to take hold of the boy's wrist. "P-Please...don't..."

"Who is my mother?" The boy replied. His tears ran down on a suddenly resolute and bitter expression; Snoof eyed everywhere except for the boy, trying desperately to recall all of the women he'd encountered in his time before the Wall, and before Ygritte, and before now. He thought for too long.

The final blow laid into the Commander's chest, releasing another pained 'a-hyuk' from his mouth, before Alliser stepped forward. His hand rested upon the boy's shoulder, his boot pressing into the dead Commander's chest and pushing him onto his back.

The boy moved away, and the crowd dispersed. Only Alliser remained in the enclosure, and he moved around the freezing body as he grabbed the torch, throwing it to the icy ground. As the flame slowly died, Alliser's words lingered in the air around the dead male.

"Valar Morgoofus."

~Fin~


End file.
